A public workout last week at Barclays Center—ahead of boxing matches that were televised live Saturday night on NBC—boasted five stars. There were the boxers fighting in the two main bouts, and ring announcer
David Diamante.

Of the five, it may have been Mr. Diamante, Barclays Center public address announcer, who attracted the most attention from fans and requests for autographs and photographs.

I first noticed him at a Barclays Center boxing event last year. It would have been difficult not to.

Mr. Diamante cuts a striking and rather unorthodox figure—at least compared with the old days, when ring announcers tended to be tuxedoed gentlemen with a lot of product in their hair.

Mr. Diamante favors a fedora and bespoke suits. And then there’s the matter of his hair. Dreadlocks that extend beyond his waist.

I also couldn’t help but think he stood as a symbol of the new Brooklyn. Someone—like half the passengers on the L train—inventing their own style as they go along.

He’s also the Brooklyn Nets’ PA announcer and, whether the sport is basketball or boxing, combines his “Voice of God” baritone with an entertainer’s instincts.

He also owns a cigar shop, Diamante’s Brooklyn Cigar Lounge, located a couple of blocks from the arena.

“I have my own brand of cigar,” he told me during a lull in the action when he wasn’t trying to drum up excitement, and ticket sales, at the public workout last Tuesday in Barclays Center’s lobby. (“Get you tickets right now at the
American Express
box office.”)

Announcer David Diamante introduces boxer Peter Quillin during boxer workouts at Barclays Center in Brooklyn on April 7.
Photo:
Kevin Hagen for The Wall Street Journal

Mr. Diamante grew up in Baltimore, but he counts parents and grandparents from Brooklyn. He’s also done some fighting himself. But his voice was better than his jab.

“I loved the pageantry of the announcers, guys like
Johnny Addie,
” he said, referring to Madison Square Garden’s ring announcer from 1948 to 1971. “I wanted to stay in boxing. I thought this would be a great way to do it.”

I was curious whether Mr. Diamante catches any flak from fans for his unconventional appearance, even though we live in an enlightened age and he works in an enlightened borough. I don’t think it’s disparaging the sport of boxing to suggest that it attracts the occasional vocal Neanderthal.

Indeed, what would a night of boxing be without one or two of them?

“I love the fact that I’ve stayed true to who I am and been wildly successful still,” he said.

Did I mention that he also doesn’t lack for self-esteem? Then again, have you ever heard of a successful ring announcer who suffers from shyness?

“There’s a lot of people who don’t like my hair because I’m not traditional,” he conceded. “It happened a couple of times.”

He meant colorful comments from the peanut gallery. “But I squelched it early on. If you have a microphone, you’re a very powerful person. It’s not good to mess with the guy with the mike.”

Apologies for harping on Mr. Diamante’s hair. But how does he wash it? Or does he? Unbraiding his locks would probably take the better part of a morning.

“I have to separate them,” he acknowledged. “Every couple of weeks I have someone groom my hair. This is not a hippie thing.”

Mr. Diamante, 43, said that his reputation as a boxing master of ceremonies didn’t provide an advantage when he auditioned to be the Nets public address announcer.

“Over 400 people came out,” he recalled. “I was the last man standing.”

He sees his roles in boxing—he has also announced fights for HBO, ESPN and Showtime—and basketball as different.

“As a ring announcer I must be neutral at all times,” he explained. “I work with every promotion company, every network, potentially every fighter. I never big up one fighter over another.

“Basketball, I’m very pro Nets,” he added. “I want to get the sixth man, the crowd, into it.”

But boxing appears his first love. He paused as a fan asked to have his young son’s picture taken with Mr. Diamante.

“These are all my people,” he said. “I announced amateur fights in the middle of the street years ago.”

He was thinking, in particular, of welterweight champion Dusty Hernandez-Harrison, then little more than a child. “He just headlined the Garden.”

Mr. Diamante also finds time to travel. “When the Nets are away,” he said. “I just ran with the bulls in Spain.”

Was he frightened?

“I’m more scared not to live my life,” he said.

He produced his phone and showed me his picture with a bull in hot pursuit.